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June 14, 2012

I am more seriously than ever before going through my belongings and thinking about—and feeling —their weight. The weight of responsibility for owning these THINGS is weakening, especially as I gather, sort and cull. The way I have experience my world is that if I need/want something and I am patient...and I "ask the universe" for it...it will eventually make its way into my life. This frees me to get rid of a lot knowing that I can say anonor adieu.

This is a funny dance to witness: The Dragging Tango.

I have dragged many things from out of the basement to the curb...to think better (or worse) and then drag them back inside. Watch this for a few seasons. This is the story of the bed frame below. Still, I have its matching dressers (tall and short) but the bed is long gone after its final waltz. My aunt suffered in that bed. Do I really want to sleep in it someday? I thought I could make it into a bench or that breaking up the set would be a major tsk tsk. But then I realized that was just my justification muscle flexing. To the curb once and for all.

Another tripping hazard in my purging process: Garbage Guilt.

I picture the landfills. So to help with this feeling, instead of just throwing something away, I taking photos (like these below) and post Craig's List "Curb Alerts." I do this for other people's past yard/garage sale curb stuff, too...better to have it go to homes for a new life than into the landfills or shipped off to another country!

Reduction—Deduction: Many car loads and trips to the Salvation Army, too. I have a blast doing this!, the goals is to not come out of the Sally with anything. Nicer designer clothing, shoes and treasures to my consignment shops: Consignment Chic, Main Street Consignment and New To You. Ahh, lighter already. Pretty soon I will have nothing to bring to them.

This cleaning out is a very difficult task for me as these things are powerful and loaded with meaning. I also enjoy the process and organizing remembering...and then I hear those words of truth..."you can't take it with you." I read somewhere that just because someone gave you something (even for a special occasion) it does not mean the gift came with a lifetime contract to keep and care for it forever. It is the receivers responsibility to accept the gift with gratitude and respect. That is enough.

As an artist is is easy for me to find beauty and potential value in just about everything, a possible re-purposing, new life and another page to its provenance. My tastes are changing, which is fascinating to observe and be present in the process of this change. It is like watching a dream— knowing it is a dream.

June 12, 2012

I think about my hip like a turtle in its shell with what appears as a durable exterior with a soft and delicate interior.

My HIP update: Slow and steady to heal. My Labrum is not torn but is very "frayed." Think shag carpet. The hip joint is extremely inflamed and has been for what appears to be a very long time (year plus).

In these past months I have been to another hip specialist (this time
at Brigham and Women's) who said, "You can immediately stop doing any of your exercise activity." Ummmm. How do I stop doing nothing? The last time I ran was in March while trying out the course for the Spring Thaw. That's it. It is hard to run when walking hurts.

ON the upside my hip got some special attention from three doctors at BWH last month while I got an injection. One of the doctors was the lucky needle bearer, poor fellow. THAT shot into my hip joint was a very difficult and painful procedure. Let's just say there was not enough numbing agent. Still, the lidocane relief was immediate. My favorite part was after I got off the table and tested out my doped-up hip the doctor in charge said, "Now don't go out and run a marathon or anything crazy like that, hhaaa haa haaa(wink wink nudge nudge)." Oh great drat. THe hips takes a very long time, like the tortoise.

I have been against (depo medrol) cortisone injections for years and resisted them through PF by taking time off. But the hip is different. It is bossy. So I must fold...this was my first ever cortisone injection —I thought the body could heal on its own. My PT and not the Doctor at BWH convinced me that this was a very necessary injection because the hip needed help to calm down so it can heal without the constant "warfare" in there.

The doctor said "You do not need surgery—not yet." He's sending me to a new physical therapist who specializes in slow and careful "reintroduction."